


eyes of bluest blue

by nezstorm



Series: chasing tails [6]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Kindergarten, M/M, Pre-Slash, Werefox Stiles, Young Peter Hale, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:21:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: One day, when Peter arrived at the kindergarten to pick up Stiles, the boy wasn’t there.





	eyes of bluest blue

One day, when Peter arrived at the kindergarten to pick up Stiles, the boy wasn’t there.

Well, he was certainly still somewhere in the building - they’d have been notified if it was otherwise. But he wasn’t waiting for Peter in his usual place at the front steps: a fizzling ball of energy just about ready to jump into a hug and burst with all the things he had to tell Peter about his day.

In the twenty minutes it took them to gather Stiles’ things, get into the car and drive home, Peter learned all about what Stiles had learned that day as well as all the games he had played with Scott and other kids.

Today, all that waited for Peter was a somber looking Scott.

He was fidgeting where he sat, fingers twisting together as he watched Peter approach. Scott always seemed intimidated by Peter, no matter how much Stiles told him Peter wouldn’t bite.

“He won’t come out of the bathroom,” the boy told him the moment Peter was close enough to hear.

  “What happened?” Peter felt worry niggling at him, but it was Scott telling him about Stiles and not one of the caretakers. Whatever happened couldn’t have been too serious.

“We were making collages and Jackson was being mean, and he pushed Stiles and he broke a marker by accident and it got all over everything,” Scott said, getting more agitated with every word. He was clearly upset that something had happened to his friend.

No matter how Peter felt about Scott taking up almost all of Stiles time these days (bored, he felt bored), he was grateful that the little fox had found such a good friend.

“And Mrs. Martin helped him get cleaned up,” Scott continued, “but Stiles was still really sad and ran to the bathroom as soon as it was pick up time.”

Peter heaved a sigh.

“I’m gonna go and see what’s wrong. Are you riding with us today?” he asked the boy.

Scott shook his head no, “Mom will pick me up.”

Peter just nodded at that and headed into the building. He was in front of the bathroom door soon enough. The door opened easily enough and Peter stepped inside, making his way to the very last stall where he could hear Stiles’ heartbeat. And sniffling.

He knocked at the wood softly and waited. Stiles would know it was him there.

But the door remained closed and the sniffling didn’t stop so Peter braced himself. This would probably take a moment.

“Red, can you open the door for me?” he asked gently.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Then can you at least tell me why you decided to lock yourself up in here?”

No reply came.

“Scott told me what Jackson did,” Peter continued, “No one will be mad that you got dirty, cub, it wasn’t your fault.”

His words didn’t seem to have any effect, which threw him off a bit. What else could stiles be upset about?

“Stiles,” he tried again, “C’mon, little frog, you can’t stay in here the whole day. We’ll miss the carrot cake Mark promised for dessert.”

There was some shuffling behind the door.

Food seemed to best way to get to Stiles, and carrot cake was his definite favorite.

Peter took a step away from the door as it slowly creaked open.

The first hint of the little fox he saw were the chubby fingers pushing the door open, they were still faintly blue. A moment later the rest of stiles followed, though the boy wasn’t looking at Peter at all, his eyes set on the floor.

Once the boy was completely out the door, Peter crouched down to be on the same level with him. He reached for the kit’s hands and tugged at them gently to get Stiles to come closer. He was relieved when the boy complied, even if he was still stubbornly looking down at his shoes.

“Will you tell me why you’re upset?”

“I ruined your drawing,” Stiles finally mumbled, finishing the sentence with a loud sniffle.

“My drawing?”

“It’s your birthday soon and I wanted to draw you something,” Stiles explained, his words harder to decipher as he continued and got more upset. “And it looked good. I even had a crayon marker that was the same color as your eyes! But th-then Jackson pushed me and it broke a-and it spilled all over.”

Stiles was full on crying by the time he finished, tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks.

Peter pulled the boy closer and wrapped him in his arms, shushing him gently. Stiles clung to him, arms locked around Peter’s neck as he sobbed. Peter held him, rumbling softly and rubbing the boy’s back.

He didn’t say anything until the boy calmed down.

He prodded at the little fox until he eased his hold enough to get some space between them. With one arm still wrapped around Stiles, Peter dug a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped the boy’s face clean, helped him blow his nose. 

That done, and handkerchief put away again, he cupped Stiles cheek and smiled at him.

“Stiles, you know you don’t have to give me anything, right?”

“I know, but--”

“And I really appreciate that you wanted to draw something for me. But I already have the best present I could ever get,” he told the boy.

“You do?” the boy asked, eyes huge.

“Yup. It’s you. You’re the best present I could wish for,” he knew he sounded ridiculous, but there was no one there to hear him other than Stiles, and the bright smile he got for his words was all he needed.

The kit pushed in for another hug immediately and Peter let him, simply lifting him up and carrying him out of the bathroom.

Finally.

They got all the way to the car and Peter was just about to help Stiles into his seat, when the boy spoke up.

“Am I really your present?”

“Of course,” Peter replied, then kissed Stiles’ cheek. “But if you really want to give me something for my birthday,” he went on, Stiles nodding even before he was finished, “then you can just let me sleep in.”

Stiles considered it for a moment.

“Okay, but only if I can sleep in with you!”

“I don’t see why not.”


End file.
